Say When
by EA Thomas
Summary: What really happened with Sam and Jack?


This is a series of missing scenes from season 9 and season 10. I was annoyed that the writers and such haven't given us ANYTHING on the Sam/Jack front, so here's my own explanation for what was happening "behind closed doors," so read on and I hope you like!

The rain stopped and now the windows were fogging up. _It's now or never_, Sam thought, pushing her car door open and stepping out into the cool air. She pulled her coat tighter around her as she walked up to the door. Fall was creeping in but she always forgot how much colder it was at the cabin…she didn't even know how late it was, the sun had sunk well below the horizon before she even left the base. For a moment she wondered if Mitchell and Vala were still looking for her…

She stopped at the front door and hesitated to knock on the door. She tried not to think about what this meant, what she was about to do…if she didn't think about it she'd wind up back in her house crying alone—again. And she knew that he wouldn't come after her anymore, she had made sure of that. But that meant nothing now, it was all in the past and as she forced out the breath she had been holding her chest twisted in pain again-- then she knocked on the door.

It wasn't long before the door opened. He stood there in the doorway with a half empty bottle of beer in his hand, after a moment he turned and set the bottle in the windowsill. Then he braced his hand of the door as he stood silently—waiting. He didn't look surprised to see her standing there but, nevertheless, he didn't say a word.

Sam walked slowly through the doorway, stopping just before her feet touched his. Her eyes wanted to look at anything but his unflinching eyes that were surprisingly welcoming as she looked into them. Her mouth moved as she tried to say the one word that would make the pain dissolve from her body but her voice was caught somewhere deep down inside where all that pain and fear was boiling.

He didn't back up as she moved closer. She seemed to stand in his arms even though he wasn't touching her but he made sure to remain perfectly still as she raised her eyes to meet his again. Her mouth moved but he didn't hear what she had said, then she swallowed hard and stepped closer to him until he could feel her feet touching his.

Sam tried to keep her hands from shaking but it wasn't working, and she whispered the one word he had been waiting to hear for what seemed like a lifetime, "When," she said, letting the tears roll down her face.

**Two years and four months ago…**

Everything was quiet. A little too quiet, but then again, this was a different sort of quiet and that she didn't mind so much. The water below was still and yet it broke softly onto the pilings of the dock beneath them and the wind rustled through the trees around them. It always amazed her how little things like this were different here on Earth than on other worlds. The air moved a certain way, the sun felt warmer and she felt safe.

So why was there a small part of her gnawing at her insides? The last week had been nothing out of the normal and yet here she was in this beautiful place with the three men she loved the most and something felt horrible.

"Carter, you want another beer?" O'Neill asked, tapping her on the shoulder with the butt-end of a fresh beer bottle.

She snapped out of her reverie and looked up to see the bottle hovering over her shoulder. "Oh, thank you, Sir."

O'Neill moved to sit next to her and tried not to ask what was wrong. Not that she would tell him anyway, but he couldn't help but realize how different she was here lately. Maybe that's why he brought them all fishing. He was shocked that Carter had stayed this long, he thought she would have rigged some emergency at the base and she would be called back within an hour of casting her first reel. But Daniel and Teal'c had left over an hour ago, it was nearly dark and here she was, still sitting at his side. Not that he minded; he always wanted her here.

"What do ya say we head in and start cleaning up?" he asked, hoping to spark some conversation in her. But she only nodded and picked up her things to head inside.

He watched her moving around the cabin as though being there together was completely commonplace and she were merely straightening up after company had left. It was odd to see her like this. She had always been in uniform around him and always had some sort of air of professionalism. Even when they wound up stuck off world and hadn't showered for two weeks; she always had a way of holding herself that made everything else pale in comparison. Today was not such the case. She wasn't even wearing her clothes; she was wearing Jack's clothes. An early afternoon fishing accident brought on by Daniel and a bulky cooler sent Carter over the edge of the dock. He just now realized how his clothes hung on her body and how good his flannel shirt looked against her skin. But none of this mattered, beneath the silence and the occasional, _Yes Sir_ was an upset Colonel Carter, and it was driving him nuts. But it wasn't until they were standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes that he had the guts to speak up.

He looked into the sink of soapy water and picked up another plate to scrub. Then the words just fell right out of his mouth. "If I ask you what's wrong, will you tell me?" he asked, still staring at the sink.

She didn't miss a beat, "I don't know what's wrong. I guess I've just been thinking about things lately."

His heart twisted for her. It had only been a few weeks since she lost her Dad and by his standards she had yet to really react to it and he mentally prepared himself for the breakdown she was about to have. "Your Dad?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't trigger any water works just yet.

"Us," she said flatly.

He dropped the plate in the water and fished it out again, this time scrubbing harder as he tried not to look at her. "Oh?" he asked, as if this were any other conversation.

She almost smiled at his blatant uneasiness, but she couldn't take it anymore. They needed to have some sort of conversation about this. "It's just funny. You think you know what's going to happen…and…then…it turns out you don't," she said, reaching for another plate to dry off.

Jack put the dish down and dried his hands. "Sam, a—"

She touched his shoulder and thought it better to just forget the whole confrontation. "I'm sorry, just forget I said anything. I should head back home, it's getting late," she said, tossing the towel on the table.

He watched her walk towards the door and his mouth fell open. "Sam—" he said again, trying to get a word in but she waved him off and tried to talk her way out of the awkward situation as she reached for the door handle.

Jack crossed the room and closed the door before she could walk out. Slowly he turned her around and leaned in, hovering just above her lips. "I was going to ask if I was too late," but he didn't give her time to answer. His lips met hers and she dropped her purse on the floor. It seemed he couldn't pull her against him tight enough and they stumbled back against the door. Then her cell phone rang.

They broke apart instantly as though someone had walked into the room. Sam picked up her purse and pulled out her cell. "Carter," she said, her eyes still locked with Jack's as they tried to figure out what would happen when she hung up the phone. "What? Okay, yes…I'm on my way." She flipped the phone shut and pulled her purse back on her shoulder. "That was Daniel, Cassie was in a car accident. She's at Boulder Memorial, I have to go get her before they start any tests." Her hands were shaking again and Jack standing across the room staring at her wasn't helping things.

She didn't know what to say, what could possibly make sense now? So she didn't say anything and walked out the door, leaving Jack standing in the middle of the living room.

**Two years and three weeks later…**

Carter slumped behind her desk and sighed, _thank god Mitchell had stopped whining about his 200th trip through the gate_, she thought as a soft knock at her door brought her posture upright the instant General O'Neill walked into the dimly lit office. "Sir, I thought you had left."

"Nah, not yet," he said, walking over and leaning on the high-end desk. "I uh, wanted to say…bye."

She smiled, "Bye, Sir," she said, feeling as if she had missed a joke in there somewhere.

He stepped back from the table but turned back, ready to ask what he wanted to ask all day but the moment she looked at him the words froze on his tongue.

"Everything all right, Sir?"

"What's different?" he asked.

"Different?" Carter asked. "What's different?"

"That's what I want to know. I mean, I left and everything was a…certain way…I come back to say hello how do ya do and—it's different." He was leaning against the table again and clearly confused about something, but Carter was lost. Things changed around here all the time.

"They painted," she said, hoping that would narrow down the topic.

"Oh, really? It doesn't look different."

"It's the same color, just—new."

"Oh. Daniel seems different," he said.

Carter smiled, "That's Vala."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, of course he's oblivious. But you know Daniel, he'll see it eventually."

His hand drifted to a small device on her desk and he turned it over in his hands as he spoke. "Yeah, he can be dense sometimes. You're different too," he said, slipping in the last part, hoping she wouldn't notice.

"I am?"

"I think it's Mitchell," he said, not realizing how it sounded until he said it.

"Excuse me?" she asked, standing from her chair.

He cringed and tried to explain before she walked out. "You're easier with him. You were never like that with me."

"Me and Cam are the same rank …we're friends."

"We aren't friends?"

"I thought we were a version of friends where you ordered me around all the time."

O'Neill nodded. "You think we could ever be real friends?"

The line of questioning had taken a route Carter wasn't expecting and she blinked hard to regain her momentum. "Why the concern with what kind of friends we are?"

O'Neill didn't miss a beat and turned into her, holding back just enough so that he didn't touch her but was still close enough that she knew he was serious. "I'm too late aren't I?"

Footsteps passed the open door to her office and Carter stepped back, running a hand through her hair before she spoke again. "Oh—that," she said, seeking refuge on the other side of the table. "I didn't know what to do. I kept thinking that we would talk. But you left, and I left. There wasn't time or I don't know…" She didn't have time to think before Mitchell appeared in her doorway with Vala and Daniel behind him.

"Hey, Sam, you ready yet?" he asked not seeing the General in the dark room until he turned around. "Oh, sorry, Sir. I didn't see you there—"he said, stepping back out into the hall.

O'Neill waved him back and walked over to them. "Oh stop it Colonel, I'm on my way out anyway. You kids got plans?"

Mitchell came to attention as O'Neill stopped in front of him. "Yes Sir, it's movie night."

O'Neill turned back to Carter, "Well, you can't be late for movie night. Have fun." He was saying one thing but his eyes couldn't hide the truth from Carter.

She stayed at her desk until O'Neill had walked down the hall. Daniel walked with him to the elevator and as usual Vala had fallen in behind him. Mitchell walked in slowly and noticed Sam gripping the edge of the desk.

"Sam? You all right?"

"Yeah," she said closing her laptop. "I'll just change and meet you guys at the elevator."

Mitchell watched her walk away and tried not to imagine what could possibly have been said between her and General O'Neill that would have knocked her off balance like this.

Two weeks ago… 

Sitting in the changing room, Carter thought about the last time she had sought refuge here…those were just about the worst days of her life. And now it was all happening again. Back then it was Teal'c that came to find her crying here, no one would know where to find her now. She was almost finding some sort solace in the dark silence there was something about being surrounded by cold concrete walls that strengthened her resolve. But when the door opened behind her the real world burst in and she hurried to the showers, trying to wipe away her tears as she turned on the hot water and let it run a moment before stepping in.

The steam floated up to the ceiling and Carter leaned against the tile of the shower hoping that the water would somehow melt her down and she could slip down the drain never to be seen again. But she knew that wouldn't happen.

Her hands were water logged by the time she turned the water off and as she reached out for her towel, someone handed it to her. She froze and peeked out through the curtain to see Vala standing there with her eyes closed, holding her towel out to her.

"Vala?" she asked, taking the towel. "Did something happen?"

"Uh, no…not exactly," she said opening one eye to make sure the coast was clear. "I just uh, wanted to talk. You know, catch up." She said, sitting down on the bench.

Carter wrapped the towel around her and stepped out onto the cold tile. "You wanted to talk? In the showers?" she asked, wishing she could take the comment back the moment she said it. Encouraging Vala to talk was never a good idea.

"Well, you find a hiding place ever where else on the base. I figured here you couldn't run away in a towel."

Carter opened her locker and Vala sat facing away from her on the bench at the end of the row of lockers. "Okay, so what did you want to talk about?"

"Among my people, we have rights for the dead. I was wondering if you had such customs here when you loose someone close to you."

Carter stopped and didn't notice how her fingers had gripped the edge of her locker. "Yes, we do Vala. Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking, we should do something for Daniel. I think it would make everyone feel better around here."

Carter pulled on her shirt and slipped on a pair of sweat pants. "Daniel isn't dead Vala, we already had a funeral for him when he wasn't dead—I think if we did it again he might start to take offence."

"It's been nearly a month—"

Carter slammed her locker shut and shook out her wet hair, "He's not dead. End of conversation."

Vala was going to try and keep her talking, even if it turned into a screaming match. Screaming was better than nothing. But Sam burst out into the hall and yelled at the first person that got in her way. Vala decided to let her go this time. If she were going to make any sort of progress, she was going to need back up.

"What do you mean, drop it?" Vala asked, exasperated as she sat across from Colonel Mitchell in the commissary. She thought he of all people would gladly play hero and help Sam find a way of dealing with what had happened but to her surprise he was taking the same militant view that Sam had taken.

"Just what I said," Mitchell barked between bites of his mashed potatoes. "Sam is a grown woman, she will handle this her own way. Daniel was like a brother to her—that's not something you get over in a week."

"It's been almost a month," she corrected.

"It might never happen, just let her be. Believe me Vala, if you push her you'll end up on the business side of Samantha Carter and trust me, that is not a place you want to be."

Again, Vala backed off and took his advice in stride as she walked out into the hall—then it hit her. A brilliant plan that would no doubt fix everything—even Sam.

Seeking the cold comfort of the floor, Carter leaned back against Daniel's desk and cracked open another book of ancient writings as she sat crossed legged on the floor. This had been her life since it happened. It was the only thing that kept his eyes out of her mind. The look on his face and the screaming, that had been haunting her every moment since—

The door to Daniel's office opened slowly and Jack O'Neill walked in wearing civilian clothes. Without a word he sat across from her on the floor and bumped her knee with is foot. "Hi," he said, but she didn't even look up.

"Hi, Sir."

Jack nodded and pulled the book from her hands. "How ya doin?" he said, tossing the book to the floor.

She reached for the book and Jack snatched it back from her. "You're in a mood," he said, purposely trying to piss her off.

"I'm busy, Sir. Can you come back later for the witty repartee?"

There was the first sign of Samantha Carter losing grip. She was never insubordinate unless something was terribly wrong, this might not be as easy as he thought it was going to be. "Jack," he said boldly.

"Excuse me?" she quipped.

"Call me Jack, I'm here as a friend, not as a General or anything else having to do with the Air Force.

"You're a General, you can't just stop being a General." There was that tone again. If she wasn't being such a pain in the butt he might actually think it was cute.

"Don't piss me off Sam, cause if you push me I'll just skip all the pleasantries and throw your ass in the brig," he said, standing over her. "Come on Carter, you've got ten seconds to get off your ass or you're going over my shoulder. Your choice."

She gaped up at him and after a moment she stood. "Alright, I'm standing. Now what?"

Jack grabbed her arm and headed for the door, "I'm taking you home. Where you are going to take a shower, eat something not made by Hostess and sleep for at lease 8 blissful hours and then—we're going to talk."

He didn't give her a choice and within seconds he was pulling her into the elevator as though she had broken curfew. Sam didn't have the energy to fight him, and she honestly couldn't remember the last time she had left the base. She moved to the wall opposite him and rested her head on the cold metal. "Don't take me home," she whispered.

Jack heard her and decided that was one request he could deal with. "Then we'll go somewhere else."

Jack drove off the base and Sam was asleep in the passenger side before he pulled off the main road to the series of dirt roads that would take them to his cabin. He let her sleep. He hoped he was doing the right thing by her, he had never seen her this bad before. And he had a strange fear that it was his fault.

Dark clouds had settled over the cabin and Sam stared out the window at them as though they were an ancient foe that had found her in the least likely of places. When Jack had shown up at the base she had wanted to ask why he had come, why he was doing this but she didn't want to know. The sudden escape from her own prison had brought her little relief but it was enough to keep her wits about her.

As Jack pulled his truck up into the front yard of the cabin, she stepped out and looked out at the water for a moment until Jack cleared his throat from the front door. "Come on, it's gonna rain soon," he said, holding the door open for her.

She walked inside and slumped into the worn out couch in the den. She sat motionless for a moment then pulled her legs up on the couch and rested her head on her knees. She always knew how to handle everything. She always knew what to do—but not this time. And it was killing her. She couldn't step the pain in her chest and she couldn't talk to anyone. Yes Vala and Mitchell were upset too but this was her own private hell and no one else was invited. And yet, Jack was here but she couldn't explain that one yet.

Jack walked over and pulled her feet to the ground. "Come on, shower time. A nice hot shower and I'll run out for supplies."

She didn't answer, just did what she was told, like a good soldier.

Again, she stood in a hot steamy shower and wished to just disappear down the drain. But alas, it didn't happen. Her skin was red when she finally turned the water off and slipped into an old shirt and sweat pants of Jack's. There was something comforting about his scent and she felt warm for the first time in weeks.

She walked out into the kitchen and Jack was putting groceries away, she noticed the beer right off. "Planning on getting me drunk?" she asked.

"That has medicinal qualities," he said, popping the top off a bottle and holding it out to her. "This one is cold."

She took the beer and wondered off to the couch again, hoping to drift off into another world where her family and friends were safe and with her.

Jack plopped down on the couch next to her and took a drink from his own beer as he kicked off his shoes. Something in Sam turned, the warmth had faded from her body and now she was just annoyed.

"You don't have to baby sit me."

"I'm not babysitting, I'm helping a friend."

"Oh? Is that what it's called?"

Jack sat silent a moment and pondered whether or not he should really tell her why he was doing this. But then the words just came out on their own. "I was around…the last time. I knew what would happen if I wasn't hard on you, if I didn't push. And it worked, Jonas came around and after a while you dealt with Daniel dying. But I wasn't there this time and I should have known…I should have come back sooner. I'm sorry."

Sam was shocked, and even more annoyed than before. "So now I'm so fragile that I need to be handled?" She tried to stand from the couch and Jack pulled her right back down, nearly on top of him but Sam pulled her legs back from his.

"Damn it Carter, I'm trying to help, stop trying to piss me off!"

"What's this going to help? You want me to talk about Daniel? The look in his eyes? How Vala wouldn't look at me for a week? How everyone at the base is walking on eggshells because they know how fragile Colonel Carter gets when she loses one of her guys. You want me to tell you how all I've wanted for the last five weeks is to cry my eyes out every moment I'm awake and how much it hurts to breath?" She stopped and tried to hold back the tears in her eyes, when she started speaking again she couldn't break through a whisper. "I didn't want you to come back, I knew you would…but it hurts so much when you are close because I have a very loose grip on everything right now and every time you touch me all I want to do is to let it all go and give up." She wanted to cry, but still she held it in. She was always holding it in. And as much as she wanted to run into the next room and slam the door shut between her and the rest of the world, she slumped back into the couch and prayed that neither of them would say anything.

That was a break through, Jack thought, and turned to Sam. "Yeah, that's exactly what I wanted you to say." He took her beer and sat it on the table with his own, turned out it wasn't needed after all. As he turned back, Sam was trying to fade into the couch, but Jack turned and pulled his legs on to the couch as he pulled her into his chest. She tried to pull away, but not enough where Jack had to fight her. She settled in his arms and soon she fell asleep on his chest.

When Jack woke up the first thing he saw was Sam. While they slept she had moved to lay beside him and her legs had woven into his. Her arms had circled his chest and as he lay their he could feel her breath on his chin. He watched her body rise and fall with every soft breath she took and he slipped his arm around her shoulder to hold her tighter. She stirred but settled in his arms again; content to nuzzle her chin into his neck.

In her sleep, her hand slipped under his shirt and rested on the small of his back. Jack's eyes were open now and he tried to shift until she moved again but Sam slipped closer. With a deep breath, she slowly woke and saw the gentlest brown eyes looking back at her.

"Jack?" she asked sleepily. She smiled softly and ran her hand up his side when she realized she wasn't touching shirt. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said pulling her hand back but then didn't know where to put it. "You need a bigger couch," she said, as Jack took her arm and laid it between them.

"You sleep alright?"

She nodded, "I'm warm," she said with a sleepy grin. Jack took it as a sign and tried to sit up but Sam held him down. "No, stay," she said, as he looked back at her, closer than he was a moment before.

Jack rested his forehead against hers rested his hand on the back of her neck. "You're going to be okay, Sam. I promise." He lost control. And suddenly he had regretted ever bringing her here as a friend. He didn't even see it coming, but her lips touched his and before he knew it he was pulling up her shirt and kissing her neck…

"NO, wait!" Sam said, holding Jack back from her. "We can't do this. I-I can't do this." She was off the couch and pulling her shirt down before he could blink.

"Sam, wait—"

"No, Sir—I can't do this, I can't be this person." She was rambling now and Jack was just trying to keep up.

"Oh, so it's _Sir_ again?" he asked, getting up off the couch.

"It's always, _Sir_. It's always going to be, _Sir_."

She pulled her boots to the kitchen table and was headed for the door when Jack pulled on his shirt, _damn she moved fast, in both directions_. "Sam, just wait. Where are you going?"

"I have to get out of here. I have to go." She tried to push past him but Jack pulled her into his arms and held her until she stopped pulling away.

"Talk to me."

She looked at him for only a moment and tears streamed from her eyes. "We have this thing, you and me, this understanding that we have. This wall that we keep between us, it made me strong. I don't think you ever knew that. How much I depended on you…on that wall to be between us. I need it to be there right now, because if it's not there…then Daniel is really dead…and I can't believe that. I have to believe that there is a way to save him, to bring him home.

Jack kissed her softly and her chin rested on his shoulder. "I'll be here, waiting. When you're ready…say _when_."


End file.
